


Not for the Faint

by Strawberrywaltz



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Humor, Bruce Needs a Hug, Clint Feels, Clint Needs a Hug, Coffee is not food, Cute Bruce Banner, Each of the Avengers Faint, Fainting, Natasha Needs a Hug, Non Consensual Drugging, Or a nanny, Prompt Fill, Steve Feels, Team as Family, Team fluffiness, Tony Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-07
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-14 21:15:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1279084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strawberrywaltz/pseuds/Strawberrywaltz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even Avengers have their limits, thankfully the Avengers take care of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tony

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt Fill: 
> 
> I don't know why I want this but I just do. OP is weird based prompt. One of the male avengers (I feel Natasha would be too stereotypical) suddenly doesn't feel well and faints in front of the others.
> 
> Can be any reason why - too hot, been fighting all day, not had chance to drink anything, have some medical condition they didn't know about or even did know about but isn't usually a problem, low blood sugar anything. Prefer it to be something random that they wouldn't normally even think of affecting them.
> 
> Everyone is surprised and any feels rough but is more or less ok afterwards. Team agree to keep a closer eye on each other/ look after themselves better or something.

It was one of those days where Tony just wanted to crawl back up to his top floor, pent house suite and sleep for a month. Of course he would never be able to sleep for that long. Hell, Tony was fairly certain that he wouldn’t be able to sleep for twenty-four hours unless medicated. His mind wasn’t wired so it could shut off from time to time. Nope, a genius’s brain was active every minute of everyday rain or shine, dead tired or wide-awake. 

Tony had been running on coffee and a brainstorm of ideas for a week now. He got a wink of sleep here and there when his body demanded it. Now that his project was finished Tony had two options: sleep or coffee.

Instead of giving into the call of sweet sleep, the billionaire headed up to the common floor to check if any of his teammates had brewed a pot of caffeine recently. JARVIS, the mother he was, stopped stocking up Tony’s pent house suite to keep his master from over dosing on caffeine. 

Tony refused to acknowledge that he had a problem. Caffeine headaches were totally normal, even ones that left him shivering. 

Reaching the common floor Tony zeroed in on his goal and headed straight for it. He didn’t glance around and check for any hazards or obstacles in his way, which is probably why he missed Steve all together. 

The collided abruptly and Steve, the bastard, was barely affected. Tony on the other hand lost his balance completely and fell sideways and thudded against the floor. With a groan he turned and looked up at Steve with narrowed eyes. “Dude, you’d make a better roadblock than a roadblock.” Tony growled. 

Steve looked both dumbfounded and horrified. “Tony,” he started his apology, reaching out to help his fallen teammate up. “I thought you saw me or heard me, but you just kept walking and – ”

Tony reached up and took the offered hand, too tired to bother following along with Steve’s rambling sentences. “Untwist your panties, Captain – ” Tony lost track of his own words as Steve heaved him back up to his feet with disgusting ease. Once standing everything went wrong, Tony’s vision was over taken with black fireworks that were both mesmerizing and terrifying at the same time. 

With a grunt Tony felt himself swaying forward then backwards at an alarming rate. Steve was yelling again, but Tony’s tongue felt too thick to be able to respond properly. With a groan everything came to a rushing end and grayed out until everything went dark and the world slipped away. 

Maybe skipping the coffee and going straight to bed would have been the best option. 

When Tony woke it was a slow process. He drifted, happily content, surrounded by the soft fluff that made up his ultra comfortable bed. It was warm and cozy and everything would be perfect, that is, if someone would stop talking. 

“I don’t even know, one second he was walking in the room and the next he ran into me and started to say something and – ” Annoying and male. Steve. 

“He’s as pale as a sheet.” A female voice mentioned. It wasn’t a very pleasant voice, or nice. It must belong to Natasha, not Pepper. 

“His vitals are stable.” A new voice sounded, all business with a little hint of concern. The owner of that voice was Bruce. Tony grumbled and moved his head away from them. 

“I think he’s waking up.” That one. The observant one. Clint. Damn, was the whole gang there? 

Tony groaned again unhappily and peeled his eyes open. Everything was blurry. His arms and legs felt weighed down and all Tony wanted to do was sleep. “Go’way.” Tony found himself saying as he tried to turn over. 

“Sure.” It was Natasha again. She sounded way too pleased with herself for whatever reason. “We just want to make sure you aren’t going to die on us, Stark.” 

Ah, snark. It inflicted all of the Avengers personalities. Tony shook his head and managed to lift a hand, waving them off with the one finger solute. 

“He’s good.” Clint announced with a laugh. 

Bruce made an uncertain noise. “I think he probably could use some fluids, not to mention a meal. Jarvis mentioned his blood sugar was low. That could have caused him to faint.” 

“Whoa, wait what?” Tony groaned, forcing his eyes back open. When had they closed anyway? “I what? Fainted? No. I’m not a girl.” 

Steve and Natasha snorted at the same time. 

Bruce patted Tony’s shoulder in a slightly mocking way. Tony didn’t appreciate it. “Sure, Tony. It was a very manly faint.” The other scientist assured without a hint of sincerity. Bruce changed his tone as he spoke more seriously. “You need to eat something, I’m going to go make you some toast and then you can go back to sleep, alright?” 

“Toast? Ew.” Tony whined, openly unhappy at the thought. “You’ll burn the bread, you always do! I want Hawkeye’s crepes.” 

Clint snickered. “He’s right, Bruce. Tony’s toaster kind of hates you.” 

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Fine, Clint will make you crepes.” 

“Hey, I’m not your chef slave.” Clint grumbled, suddenly as aggravated looking as Tony. “I only cook when I want to.” 

Tony frowned. He really wanted crepes. “I’ll buy that part for you?” The billionaire offered. “That one you need for your motorcycle.” 

Clint’s eyes lit up at that. “Crepes it is. Blueberry with chocolate sauce?” 

Tony smiled sleepily and nodded. “Did’ya even have to ask?” 

“Sleep well, Tony.” Steve offered as the Avengers started to file out of the billionaire’s room.


	2. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha's turn ^^

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to the feed back I've decided to continue with this little series! 
> 
> I apologize for any glaring mistakes, I do have a beta...sort of. But we make mistakes ^^ All mistakes are still epically mine! Sorry!

“You’re going to end up choking if you keep doing that,” Clint commented as he breezed by Natasha in Stark’s lavish kitchen. They were the only two in the area, so Natasha didn’t mind showing off her childish side. Obnoxiously the redhead stuck out her tongue at her partner, curling it around the cherry pit she was currently sucking on. 

Clint raised an eyebrow as he tended to the popcorn popping in the microwave. “Seriously, that’s gross.” He teased with a fake disgusted look. “And dangerous.” Clint added in a more serious way. “If you want more cherries Bruce bought plenty. You don’t need to suck each pit clean, Nat.” 

“Of course I do.” Natasha spoke around the cherry pit still carefully tucked between her teeth and the inside of her cheek. She loved cherries. The sweet-sour favor and crunchy-soft texture made them her favorite treat. A treat Natasha savored the same way she did as a child. Sucking cherry pits happened to be a habitual tradition she’d picked up over the years, but never bothered to break. Nor did she plan to break it simply because it concerned her partner. 

For some reason Clint had a thing against small things being in a person’s mouth. Natasha had never been told the full story, but Coulson had mentioned once that Clint had been traumatized as a child. Apparently a very young Barton had watched helplessly as someone, she didn’t know who, choked on something. Natasha wasn’t really sure if the person lived or not, but for her it didn’t matter in her mind. She wasn’t about to choke to death doing something she’d done most of her life. 

“I’m a well trained, deadly assassin.” Natasha pointed out before she dutifully spit the pit into the trashcan next to her, if only to put her partner’s mind at rest. “I don’t think a little seed would be able to take me down.” 

Clint rolled his eyes as he poured the popcorn into a serving bowl. “Shit happens.” He commented, but let the small argument die. “Put those cherries in a bowl and come join us before you eat them all.” Barton joked as he departed towards the living area with a small wave. 

The other Avengers were out setting up camp around Tony’s larger than life TV. From where Natasha sat on the counter she could hear a heated debate being discussed about which movie the team was going to watch. Bonding. It was a mixture of Tony and Steve’s idea. 

Steve wanted the team to spend more time together outside of training and Tony took that as an opportunity to give the Avengers a Movication. Loosely translated from Tony-Speak that meant ‘Movie Education.’ A term that Natasha was fairly certain Stark stole from another movie. 

With a sigh Natasha plucked a stem off another plump cherry and tossed the fruit into her mouth as she jumped down from her perch. Absentmindedly she tossed the stem into the trashcan and reached over to grab a full bag of red berries and dumped them into a strainer. She’d finished a bag on her own with no string of guilt wrapped around her conscience. 

Bruce had picked up five bags from the farmer’s market that morning. It was a delightful surprise for Natasha and she planned on taking full advantage of Bruce’s generosity. 

Natasha knew for a fact that Clint hated cherries with a passion and Steve was indifferent over the little red fruit. She also was aware that Tony always preferred blueberries coated in chocolate and Thor would rather eat cherry flavored Pop Tarts instead of real, fresh cherries. Really the only other Avenger she had to worry about stealing her treat was Bruce, and honestly Natasha didn’t mind sharing with the quiet scientist. He did, after all, buy them. 

Carefully Natasha washed the berries under the cool spray of water and sucked happily on her cherry pit. Methodically Natasha stripped off every scrap of berry flesh from the seed as she worked. After giving the cherries a proper shower of water Natasha turned off the faucet and stepped backwards onto something small, flat and circular. 

The object under her foot squirmed just enough in protest to throw Natasha off her balance. With a glance down Natasha silently cursed Tony for creating his own automatic-robot-vacuumed thing with a mind of its own. She added another curse when the thing rushed off leaving her teetering on her own. 

Natasha saved the berries by juggling the strainer and managed to keep her feet firmly under her, but the cherry pit she’d been sucking on slipped from a safe place between her cheek into the back of her throat. 

It was more of a surprise than shock as Natasha calmly set the strainer full of berries down on the counter. Her free hand moved up to her throat, feeling the slight bulge there. Panic was never a good thing in these situations. Panic killed. Natasha knew that better than most.

For a moment Natasha cursed Clint for jinxing her. Her green eyes scanned her surroundings as the panic buzzed in the back of her mind. She needed to dislodge the seed or she was going to be in some serious trouble. 

The idea of stumbling out into the living area and proving Clint right didn’t even cross Natasha’s mind. Okay, it did, but she refused to ask for help. All she needed to do was Heimlich herself. 

Calmly Natasha moved forward and leaned up against the counter. She’d never done this before to herself, but it seemed pretty self-explanatory. Unable to breathe a sigh or take a breath Natasha drove her stomach into the edge of the counter. 

It didn’t help. 

Panic started to become a more prominent problem as Natasha tried the maneuver again without the desired result. Her eyes watered and Natasha felt her face go red with embarrassment as she stumbled closer towards the entrance to the living area where her team was. 

She made a whistling sound as she gripped the doorframe. The conversation still taking place between the other Avengers filtered into Natasha’s ears as muddled sound as she tried to get someone’s attention. 

Across the room her eyes met with the one person who she could trust to figure things out. 

“Shit,” Clint went deadly pale as he dropped whatever he was holding and dashed towards her. His movements were lightning fast, or Natasha had already started to black out. Her body went completely numb as she fell towards her partner’s open arms. As Clint caught Natasha she could only manage to make pitiful squeaky noises as she fought and failed to draw in oxygen. 

Her vision clouded as Bruce’s face flashed over her and finally Natasha’s mind shut off as her struggle came to an end. 

Awareness hit Natasha like a ton of bricks. One minute she was out like a light and the next she was opening her eyes and taking in a deep breath. It wasn’t the best action given her profession, but all Natasha could remember was not being able to breathe. 

“Clint,” Steve’s voice sounded from next to her. “Tony, go tell him she’s awake.” 

Natasha frowned immediately and breathed as normally as possible as she took in her surroundings. Bruce was above her, asking questions and checking her pulse, Steve was next to the bed looking concerned and she only caught a glimpse of Tony before he was out the door. 

“Are – ” Natasha rasped as she touched her painful throat. “Are we in my room?” She asked in confusion. The last thing she remembered was the living room. Barely. 

“Clint thought you might be more comfortable here.” Bruce answered with a kind smile. “You had us all quite concerned.” 

The cherry pit, Natasha groaned to herself and pushed her head back into her soft pillow. “I’m never going to hear the end of it.” She grumbled. 

“You’re right.” Clint’s small voice drifted over to her. He stood inside the doorframe as he studied her. As if he wanted to run. Natasha frowned at him and slowly realized that she had traumatized her partner – again. 

“Sorry.” She croaked with a weak smile. “You can say it. If it’ll make you feel better.” 

Clint shrugged a shoulder and pushed his way out of the doorframe to take Steve’s place at her bedside. “Told you so.” He mumbled quietly, although he didn’t look overly pleased about it. In fact, Natasha was worried he was going to bolt on her. Clint shook his head. “Don’t feel better.” He commented as his eyes flickered to the air vent in the corner. 

“Clint.” Natasha whispered, reaching out to take his hand. “I’m fine.” 

Her partner was quiet at first and refused to meet her eyes until he cleared his throat. “Don’t do it again, okay?” 

Natasha smirked a little and nodded. “I’ll do my best.” 

Clint glared, but the muscles in his shoulders relaxed enough that Natasha was fairly certain he wasn’t going to run. “I hope you enjoyed your last cherry. Because I threw the rest of them out.” 

“Clint!” Natasha squeaked unhappily and swatted at him with her hand. “Those weren’t even mine! They were Bruce’s!” 

From the doorway Steve smirked as Bruce rejoined him. “She seems to be feeling better.” 

“Mm,” Bruce nodded, but frowned. “Did Clint really throw out all my cherries?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully my take on Natasha fainting was unique! Thanks for reading. I have basic ideas for the rest of the team but I can't guarantee when the chapters will be posted. Stay tuned! 
> 
> Any requests for the next Avenger?


	3. Steve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this story are based on personal experience I had while snowboarding with my family. Still I want to apologize if I got any terminology...or anything else technical wrong ^^ I hope you enjoy. Also this chapter is un-beta'd so beware, but I did look things over!

It was a bright and sunny day, the birds were singing and the bitter breeze was ignorable thanks to the warmth of the sun, but Steve was beginning to hate everything about the beautiful day. He realized his anger wasn’t exactly well placed. The picture perfect mountain and its fluffy white snow weren’t really the source of Steve’s problem. No, that honor was reserved for Steve’s two unhelpful companions. Well, Steve conceded inwardly with a heavy sigh, Tony’s advice was more useless than Clint’s. 

“Come on, Steve, I think you’re finally getting the hang of it.” Clint called up from his spot down the snowy mountainside trail where he was kneeling in the snow. Strapped to his feet was a custom snowboard, a gift courtesy of Industries and Tony’s new obsession of winter sports. 

Shortly after the Sochi 2014 Olympic games ended, Tony had gotten it in his head that all the Avengers should take a trip to Lake Tahoe for a ski trip. The rest of the team wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as him. Natasha out rightly refused when Stark had first brought it up. Thor was back in Asgard and Bruce said he’d tag along, but he would be staying in the cabin. 

This left Clint, who had been equally as excited as Tony about the trip and Steve, who had been reluctant, but willing to try something new. Currently Steve was regretting not following Natasha’s lead. 

Tony laughed from where he stood on a pair of skis next to Barton. “Perhaps you shouldn’t have given up on skiing so quickly.” The billionaire mocked lightly as they watched Steve teeter and fall in slow motion. 

Skiing had been a disaster. The day before had involved Steve continuously falling and having a horrible time balancing his skis in the slippery snow to get back upright. It had been awful and Tony had been a horrible teacher. Not that Tony couldn’t be a good teacher, Steve was pretty sure the man was just being a pain on purpose. 

“Try snow-plowing down on your heels if toe-side turns are giving you too much trouble.” Clint offered his own advice from his position in the snow. 

Steve grumbled something stolen by the wind and attempted to switch back to his heel side of the snowboard only to over turn, lose his balance and fall spectacularly – again. 

“I’m never going to get the hang of this.” Steve groaned as he pulled the snowboard into the right position and pushed off the snow again. As Steve started to move his arms did a few stellar impressions of windmills before he caught his balance correctly and started to move steadily down the hill towards his companions. 

By the time the trio had finally made it down the mountainside and back to the chairlift Steve felt more confident with the snowboard than he had earlier in the day. Steve could almost agree with Clint that he was getting better. One thing was certain; Steve wasn’t getting any worse. 

“I think we have time for one more run.” Tony grinned at his snowboarding companions as they unstrapped one of their boots from the bindings on their boards. 

“I think I’m done.” Steve corrected as he went to unstrap his other boot. Clint shook his head and grabbed Steve’s hand before he could free himself completely from the board. 

“Come on, Captain Snowplow.” Clint teased lightly when Steve groaned and stood up straight. “It’ll be fun. You were really getting the hang of things towards the end of that last run.” 

Steve himself wasn’t so sure that was true. He was sore, which he didn’t think could be possible given his super serum boost, and he was tired. Dead tired. Still, Steve had been getting better towards the end and he harbored a small hope that he could make it down the mountain without falling, as much, if he were to give it one last try. 

“I suppose this is our last chance.” Steve muttered, more to himself than his friends. They were leaving the following morning to go back to New York. It was a bit of a shame, Steve really liked Lake Tahoe and the city of Reno. “Fine. One more run.” He told his teammates and they started towards the chairlift together. 

The ski resort they were at wasn’t one of the big, well known tourist spots. It was a secluded place the locals favored with a single chairlift that went directly to the top of the mountain. It took twenty minutes to get up to the top, but the sights getting there were beautiful. Steve knew he’d likely find inspiration later to draw what he’d seen, but at the moment he was kind of regretting agreeing to one last run. 

The chairlift was only big enough for two people at once. Well, they could probably squeeze three onto the bench, but Steve had ridden the chairlift once with Tony and swore never to do it again. Besides, Clint gave Steve advice and pointers as they headed up that actually helped Steve going down. 

Needless to say Steve pushed forward beside Clint as they waited for the bench to swing around and pick them up. 

“Here we go.” Clint smiled and glanced back as Tony was picked up by the next bench behind them and waved at the billionaire obnoxiously. 

Steve grinned when he glanced back and saw that Tony was stuck with a man who clearly recognized him and was grilling him about his billionaire lifestyle and his superhero side job. Tony looked flustered being stuck with one of his fans, but Steve couldn’t feel too awful for him. 

Instead the super soldier shook his head and glanced out over the view and towards a lake. He was pretty sure it wasn’t Lake Tahoe, but another lake the area had. More importantly, Steve eyed the dark clouds over the lake and tapped Clint’s leg to point. 

“Do you think that’ll miss us?” He asked nervously, shifting in his seat, his feet dangled high above the tops of snow covered ponderosa pine trees and rocks as they passed over them. His least favorite part of the chairlift ride was when the ground dropped away and the chairlift passed over a steep drop off. It wasn’t so much that Steve was afraid of heights, it was more that it reminded him of Bucky and how his friend had fallen to his death down a similar snowy slope. 

Clint frowned, the smile he had melted of his face at the sight of the clouds. “I wouldn’t worry about it, Steve.” Clint tried to reassure him, but Steve could tell the archer wasn’t being overly truthful. The chilly wind that had picked up wasn’t helping the archer’s attempt at a brush off. 

“Clint.” Steve pressed and Barton sighed. 

“It’s probably going to hit before we even reach the top. It’s moving fast and this wind isn’t helping.” Clint admitted and shivered as the wind picked up. The archer had stowed his jacket at the lodge at lunch. It had been pretty toasty earlier with the sun beating down and the snow reflecting the warm glow. That comfortable warmth of the sun had vanished and the temperature felt like it had dipped down toward a dangerous level of cold. 

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. The trails all lead down to the bottom somehow. We’ll be fine.” Clint flashed Steve a bright smile. “It’s just a little snow.” 

Ten minutes later the sun was lost behind blackened skies and falling snow. Clint was shivering, trying to warm his skin by rubbing his hands against his bare arms. The friction was apparently not working because Clint’s shivering didn’t subside. They were still a good ten minutes away from the top of the mountain when Steve shrugged out of his jacket without a second thought. 

“W-what a-are you do-ing?” Clint asked, not accepting the offered gift of warmth. His eyes stared at Steve in shock, well, Steve hoped shock hadn’t settled in so quickly. 

“I mean no offense by this, Clint,” Steve started and waved the jacket a little, hoping the movement would get Clint to take it. “But it’s been proven that I can survive being frozen. Do you really want to test your survival limits? More importantly, do you think you can shoot your bow if you lose your fingers to frostbite?” 

“I have gloves.” Clint glared, but accepted the jacket without another word. Once he’d shrugged on the jacket Clint shoved his hands deep into the pockets and sighed a bit as the residual heat from Steve’s body warmed him up a bit. Clint’s violent shivering subsided into a subtle vibration. That was enough of a victory to make Steve smile. 

Steve had been a bit smarter with his choice of dress anyway. He was wearing snow pants over his jeans and long underwear under that. Over his upper body he had an undershirt, a light sweater and a heavier sweater over that. Much warmer than what Clint had been wearing, which had just been a short sleeve undershirt. 

“Thanks.” Clint mumbled after a few minutes ticked by. The snow had started to fall and the wind rattled against the chairlift causing the bench they were sitting on to sway back and forth on the wire above where it was attached. 

A ‘little’ snow ended up being four inches of fresh powder before they even reached the top of the mountain. Two inches of snow covered both Clint and Steve as the pushed off the chairlift and moved down and out of the way to strap their free boot back into the bindings. Steve was already shivering, unable to get much blood flow going trapped on the chairlift for so long. He silently hoped that the trip down the mountain would help warm his body back up. 

“Hurry up, kiddies.” Tony grumbled from the sidelines. “I feel like I’m part of the Donner Party here.” 

“Yeah well,” Clint nodded to Steve and they both pushed up and headed towards the trail. “If you try and bite me, I’m going to punch you in the throat. Fair warning.” Clint squinted down the trail they were descending down. Steve frowned at the archer, mostly because he could barely see Clint at all and it was obvious Clint couldn’t see very well in the snowy conditions either. 

“Don’t worry, Bird Brain.” Tony beamed back through the whiteness of snow. “I’d make sure you were dead first.” Not really white, Steve mused, more like a grayish white because of the dark clouds. Whatever the color was, it didn’t seem to ruin Tony’s fun. Steve rolled his eyes. His mind was acting weird. 

“Even if I’m dead.” Clint shot back, switching from his toe side of his board to his heels flawlessly while keeping a keen eye on Steve. “I’d find a way to come back and punch you in the throat.” 

Then it hit Steve. “Hey, I got that reference.” He beamed. The Donner party happened in the 1840s. A wagon train of American pioneers ended up trapped in the Sierra Nevada Mountains during a horrific snowstorm. They were low on food and some had to resorted to cannibalism in order to survive. 

“You okay there, Steve?” Clint asked, kneeling down in the snow to let Steve catch up to him. Tony was already further down the trail hidden behind the curtain of thick snow. 

Steve looked up and decided not to stop with Clint but keep going down the hill as they continued the conversation. “I’m fine.” Steve was cold, but fine. “Just thinking about the Donner Party.” He brushed off Clint’s concern. 

Clint matched Steve’s comfortable pace as they pushed on through the snowstorm. The snow was still coming down as thick as curtains

“Don’t worry,” Clint flashed a smile Steve could barely see. “I’ll punch Tony in the throat if he tries to bite you, too.” 

“Thanks.” Steve managed. He’s not shivering, but he feels cold. Bone deep cold and soggy; his sweatshirt wasn’t waterproof. It hadn’t taken long for the snow to soak it through and he biting wind wasn’t helping Steve retain any of his body heat. 

Needless to say the sooner Steve got down the mountain and into somewhere or something heated, the better. 

They snowboarded down the mountain and quickly realized that they had lost Stark in the blizzard. 

“Hopefully he just went down to the lodge.” Clint said conversationally as they fought through the snowstorm. They could barely see the trail. Actually, Steve wasn’t even sure if they were on the trail anymore. 

“Yeah.” Steve managed. For some reason he could only manage one word answers to whatever Clint said. He hoped he wasn’t offending Clint, but the archer didn’t seem to mind. 

“Do you want your jacket back?” Clint asked out of the blue. 

Steve caught an edge and barely caught himself before he face planted in the snow. “Ugh.” He groaned and slowly pushed himself back up to his knees. “No. I’m fine.” 

“You’re wet and cold.” Clint knelt in the snow in front of him, already reaching to take off the jacket. Steve reached out and stopped his friend and shook his head. 

“Like I said before, it’s been proven that I can’t freeze to death.” Steve pointed out tiredly. “Let’s just get down the mountain.” Clint looked unsure, but finally nodded with a sigh and helped Steve get his board back under him as they continued down the slope. 

They were definitely not on the traveled path. Steve noticed the difference a little to late. His board scraped over a rock and he glanced over as Clint nearly ran into a small pine tree because he couldn’t see. The snow was coming down hard and it was slightly unnerving how little they could see right in front of them. 

“Y-ou, o-kay?” Steve stammered. He blinked, almost confused at why he stammered. He wasn’t really shivering, but it was cold. So cold. 

Clint was sitting in front of the tree, his board pressed against it. He nodded and glanced around it. “Shit, stay up there, Cap.” Clint called back up. “It’s just drops off here.” 

Suddenly Steve fell, but thankfully he wasn’t going fast enough to slide down to where Clint was. Steve could barely see his friend, he was just a dark blob. 

“Steve?” Clint’s voice drifted to him, but his mind was somewhere else. Some other time, long ago. Steve watched Bucky falling and gasped a little in panic. 

“Steve?” Clint hovered above Steve suddenly as he blinked the memories away. “You’re ice cold. Shit. I need to – I don’t know.” Absentmindedly Steve watched Clint pull out his Starkphone and check for service. 

“Yes!” Clint barked as Steve’s vision started to cloud up. Steve couldn’t figure out why Clint sounded happy. Bucky was gone. Gone… 

“No, hey!” Clint hissed and shook Steve’s shoulder a bit. “Stay awake, I’m gunna have Tony come get us.” 

“D-don’t f-fall.” Steve whispered up to Clint, who looked a lot like Bucky suddenly. “Don’t – ” 

The world was swept away by white snow. 

The next time Steve opened his eyes he was no longer outside. The cold snow had been replaced by a warm bed and the storm seemed to be over. Within Steve’s line of sight there was a fire burning in a fireplace. Next to Steve’s bed Clint slept sitting upright in a chair while Tony and Bruce talked quietly in the corner of the room. 

The conversation stopped abruptly when the two scientists noticed Steve watching them. 

“Hey, Capcicle.” Tony greeted quietly. Steve was fairly surprised that he cared not to wake up Clint. 

“What happened?” Steve asked quietly as he looked from Tony to Bruce. 

“Your body shut down because of the cold.” Bruce explained. “Well, at least I’m pretty sure that’s what happened. You weren’t in any real danger, I think it was more of a reaction due to your last time in cold weather.” 

“Clint,” Steve frowned and looked at the sleeping man. 

“He’s fine.” Tony answered. “He called me from the mountain to come get you. It was clear you guys ended up going down the wrong side of the mountain. I gave you a ride bridal-style and Clint managed to get down the mountain the less dramatic way.” Tony winked to show he was teasing. 

Steve blinked slowly he took digested the information. “Okay.” He nodded and yawned with drooping eyelids. “Everyone’s fine?” Steve asked, needing verbal confirmation. 

“Yes.” Bruce assured. “Everyone is more than fine.” 

Steve managed a nod before his eyes fell shut again. “Never again.” He told Tony vaguely. 

“Sleep tight, Captain Snowstorm.” Tony whispered just as Steve slipped back into blissful sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I didn't faint in real life, but me and my cousin Jay did get separated from our group, went off trail by complete accident during the snowstorm that swept up before we even reached the top of the mountain ^^ and I nearly did end up going off a rocky drop off. Oh, and I totally scraped up the bottom of my board and hit a small pine tree. But we were going slow so it didn't really matter. 
> 
> But yes, I hope you liked this chapter!


	4. Bruce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all who have given Kudos and commented! You guys are amazing! Also, sorry for the wait, I'm working on five Avenger Stories right now and this is the only one I've been posting...so...yeah. 
> 
> Warning: This hasn't been beta'd, but I did read it over...so any mistakes left are mine!

The day had started off with such promise. The team had eaten breakfast together. The sun had been shinning. Birds chirping. So yeah, of course it couldn’t and didn’t last. When did nice things ever last for the Avengers? On a deeper note, when did nice things ever last for Bruce Banner? 

The world was spinny now. Was spinny a word? Bruce had several doctorates and the answer still eluded him. It should be a word, Banner decided with a hum. Spinny described everything Bruce currently felt. Banner shook his head and tried to focus. When did focusing become so difficult? 

Earlier Bruce and Tony had been arguing about stuff, but it was impossible to recall what argument had been over. Seemed trivial now. That had been after breakfast. Or had it been before? Everything was pretty blurred, like a watercolor painting after someone mean dumped a cup of water on it. Like Bobby Fisher had in the second grade. Wow, that seemed over dramatically descriptive. Bruce frowned and leaned heavily against Clint who was pretty much carrying Bruce along. Where were they going? 

Vaguely Bruce knew that he and Clint were in trouble. Clint and him, Clint and – whatever. Something. Something was after them. No, not something, someone was after the Hulk. Not Hulk, but Bruce. Because Bruce was Hulk. Sometimes it really sucked being Bruce Banner. It sucked most of the time, actually. 

“Do you know what you were hit with?” Clint asked. It was like his voice was floating on a calm wave. Or was it more like Bruce was floating and Clint’s voice was drifting through a storm? Bruce blinked and stared at Clint’s frowning lips. Apparently Clint hadn’t shaved that morning. Oh and yeah, Clint had asked Bruce a question. 

“Um,” Bruce mumbled. “Dunno. Hulk’s quiet.” Suddenly the scientist grinned. “You need some chapstick. Or water.” 

The frown increased and the cracks in the lips spread apart. “Ew,” Bruce contorted his face at Clint and raised his eyes up to meet the archer’s. 

“Bruce,” Clint chuckled softly. “You’re stoned. So totally stoned.” 

“Wha?” Bruce pushed at Clint and almost fell face first towards the ground. Clint caught him and resituated them so Bruce’s danger of falling was limited. “But Clint, I don’t do drugs.” Bruce insisted. He frowned abruptly and his face suddenly lit up. “Oh, unless the drug they injected me with made me stone. Stoned.”

Clint smiled a lopsided smile that if Bruce were a little more with it might have been slightly offensive. 

Bruce frowned further and stopped shuffling his feet along side Clint. 

“Come on,” Clint coaxed soothingly. “We need to find somewhere safe.” 

Somewhere safe. Yes, Bruce nodded. “With chapstick.” The scientist added with a sloppy grin. 

“Hang in there, Bruce.” Clint chuckled lightly as they trudged onward. 

It was kind of peaceful for a while. It felt like forever had passed them by as they shuffled down a less then clean alleyway. The air smelt like smoke. “Are we having a bonfire?” Bruce asked after a moment. 

Clint shook his head. “Nope.”

“Oh.” Bruce felt disappointed. “I like bonfires.” He slumped a little further in Clint’s grip. “Marshmallows.” Bruce mumbled, although he’d forgotten where he was going with the word. There was probably going to be a sentence after ‘marshmallows’ but, well, oh well. 

An explosion made both the scientist and the assassin jump. Or maybe the ground was shaking them. Bruce shook his head and looked at Clint again. The archer was pale and profiled as he looked at something else. 

Clint shuffled them towards the side of the alleyway and lowered Bruce down to sit. 

The ground shook again. 

“Shit, shit.” Clint muttered to himself and Bruce frowned again. 

“The ground’s angry.” Bruce slurred, which made Clint look concerned again. Maybe Bruce should stop pointing out the obvious. 

“Sit tight, Bruce, hopefully they don’t – shit.” Clint looked up and froze. “Okay, new plan. Stay there.” He drew an arrow from his quiver. Apparently, Bruce realized, they were in the middle of a battle. That didn’t make sense though. Where was the Hulk? Oh, he was the Hulk, obviously, but Hulk was missing. Obviously. What?

“K,” Bruce agreed, boneless against the wall behind him. He had a perfect view of Clint and glanced in the direction the archer was looking. Well shit. That guy didn’t look nice. In fact he kind of looked like he was dressed in Tony’s Ironman suit, but, not. This suit-robot was much, much bigger and far less pretty. Bruce kind of hoped he didn’t say that last part out loud. Tony’s head was big enough already. 

Clint let an arrow go and the thing roared after the sharp projectile pinged off the things metal chest. It charged and Clint cursed. Bruce kind of wished he wasn’t so tired. He should help Clint. Clint was helping him. That guy looked really mean. Like Bobby Fisher from second grade. 

Bruce watched through blurred eyes as Clint was charged by the Not-Tony. Dragged up into the air by his arm and tossed like a broken toy over the ‘things’ shoulder. 

“That’s not nice.” Bruce mumbled to himself as he looked up at the Not-Tony with a frown. “Marshmallow.” He grumbled as the thing reached it’s thick metal hand out towards Bruce’s prone figure. 

Bruce blinked and he was gone. There was a loud sound of something striking something hard. Bruce thought it was magic. “Boom.” He giggled and flopped his head to the side to glance down the alley to see if Clint had seen. 

A shadow suddenly stood above Bruce. No, not a shadow, Bruce noted as he looked upward. Thor. 

“Fear not, Doctor,” Thor bellowed far to loudly. It hurt Bruce’s ears. Bruce completely missed it when Thor swooped down and gathered him up in his masculine god-like arms. “I’ve got you.” 

Bruce was feeling many things at the moment, but he was fairly certain he wasn’t afraid. Confused? Yes. Disappointed about the lack of bonfire? Yes. But fearful? Bruce was currently to high to be afraid. 

“Um,” Bruce felt like there was cotton stuck in his mouth as he tried to talk. Or maybe his tongue had been turned into cotton. Gross. “Clint.” Bruce groaned, his eyes slid closed as he heard Thor start swinging his hammer round and round. “Don’t let – Clint – eaten by Marshmallow.” 

With his concern voiced Bruce allowed what tension was left in his body to go completely limp and drifted away into oblivion.   
__

The wakeup process after being drugged by an unknown substance is a less-than-pleasant experience to say the least. Bruce remembers vaguely the points where he had woken up just to vomit his guts out into a provided blue wastebasket he hoped never to see again. 

It was miserable, but there had been a bright side. Several bright sides, really. He’d lived, so, that was always a good thing. His friends were around him, which was also very good. Whenever Bruce managed to steal a moment of consciousness they were with him saying soothing things. Or, Bruce assumed the words are aimed to be soothing, he never really understood what was being said. 

When Bruce finally woke up and things are clear he breathed a sigh of pure relief. The drugged haze was thankfully gone, which was a much nicer over all compared to the last few encounters with wakefulness. With closed eyes Bruce decided to enjoy the moment of blissful peace. His stomach wasn’t turning, his mind was clear and he was home. Life was good, or, at least better. 

“Back to the land of the living, eh Banner?” Tony’s voice came from the left of Bruce’s bed. Okay, not quite home, but definitely in the towers infirmary. Close enough. Safe enough. 

What was supposed to be a word, or possibly the start of a sentence ended in a croak. 

Tony snickered, but retrieved a glass of water for Bruce to sooth his abused throat with. “Throwing up thirteen times will do that to a guy.” Stark sighed as Bruce drank. “Do you want to sleep some more, or are you up to eating something? Or, try to eat something, at least.” 

“If it’s toast.” Bruce managed as he set the glass aside. “Maybe. Plain toast, Tony. Not your idea of plain.” 

“You are so boring.” Tony rolled his eyes, but nodded. “You heard him, Jarvis. Plain toast. Nothing fun. Tell the kitchen police.” 

“Kitchen police?” Bruce inquired lightly and frowned. Bruce and Clint were really the only two that used the kitchen. Sometimes Natasha baked, but that was never a good thing. Steve or Clint then. Steve could cook, but he let the others take over most of the time. 

It hit him then: Clint. Bruce’s eyes widened and he sat up fast as his lips fumbled to form words. 

“Bruce?” Tony seemed worried. Probably rightly so, Bruce felt like he was having a panic attack. 

“Clint.” Bruce managed. “He – the thing was – and then, I, I – is he alive? Hell, Tony.” 

Tony’s eyes widened as he raised his hands in a ‘calm down’ motion. “Breathe, Bruce, Clint’s fine. A bit bruised, but he’s in better shape than you were the last few days.” 

“But that thing.” Bruce breathed in deeply. “It threw him.” 

Tony nodded and sighed. “He had a dislocated arm and a few pulled tendons and such, but he’s fine, Bruce. His arm is located now. Promise. I can tell Steve to grab him too, if you want. He’s been working on a project though.” 

Bruce felt confused, but content. Clint was all right and everyone was apparently safe. Good stuff. “Okay. Wait, what project?” 

Tony smirked. “Don’t worry about it, I promise he isn’t going to hurt his arm doing it, though.” 

Clint’s project was revealed the next day when Bruce felt well enough to eat like a normal, starved human being.

“A bonfire?” Bruce asked with an awed expression as he eyed the roof of Stark Tower. Clint had gone to a lot of trouble to make things comfortable and apparently had moved half of the den up there. Different bits of pillows, blankets and furniture were positioned around a fire pit. 

“We have marshmallows.” Clint announced with a happy, yet slightly uncertain grin. It was rather endearing. Bruce noted that the archer still had his sling on, which was probably because it had been his shooting arm that had been injured. “It’s just, you said you liked bonfires and – ”

“It’s perfect.” Bruce smiled back; his words quickly freed Clint of any uncertainty and the archer visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Clint.” 

Clint grinned again and patted Bruce’s arm with his good hand. “Not a problem.” 

“Okay,” Tony gripped from the coach as he speared a marshmallow on the end of a metal pole. “Enough of the mushy-gushy stuff. More roasting!” 

“Thor,” Natasha commented calmly. 

Thor frowned and glanced down at his marshmallow only to find it was on fire. “Blast!” 

The group giggled and Bruce breathed a sigh of fresh air. For now they could enjoy a brief moment of peace. If they were lucky they could get through the night without the world falling apart again. Or Thor accidently setting the Tower on fire. Either way it was a nice way to start the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm not sure how long Thor's will be since I barely ever write him...Clint's is destined for last! Mostly because he's my favorite and if I don't write Thor's next I'll never write it, lol.

**Author's Note:**

> First I want to apologize to the original prompter, cuz I'm not sure if this was even what you wanted...lol
> 
> My original goal was to make this about Clint, cuz he's my favorite, but somehow I wrote it about Tony ^^ I hope you guys liked it! 
> 
> Also I'm debating on doing a series of these featuring each Avenger...but I'm just curious to know if anyone would like to read that...before I do it...cuz I have two other stories in the works right now...


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